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thelibrarylesstrektraveled · 1 year

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To The Victor Chapter Three - Can't Be Claimed

Summary: Although Omegas had won the legal battle for equal rights, society was slow to catch up. Thought to be the weakest of the genders, they struggled to find opportunities that Alphas and Betas took for granted. Known as the Guillotine, Emmaline Beaumont was woman with a secret. Head of her family’s company; she was smart, shrewd, and tough as nails. At sixteen she presented as Omega and she’s hidden it ever since. Suppressants and hormone reassignment therapy allowed her to live her life as the Alpha her family needed her to be. The perfect solution, so long as she never allowed herself to be claimed. As the President of Winchester Inc. Dean’s professional life was golden. As an unmated Alpha nearing forty, he was restless. Charming and devastatingly handsome, Dean was rarely without female company, but he wanted more. He wanted what his parents had. Someone made especially for him. His match, his true mate. Finding her on a trip to New York had been an unexpected dream come true, but no one ever said the road to love was easy.

Pairing: Alpha!Dean x Omega!OFC, Dean x OFC, Dean Winchester x OFC

Characters: Dean Winchester, OFC, Sam Winchester, Jessica Moore, John Winchester, Jody Mills

Warnings: ABO dynamics, Heat/Rut cycles, Smut (Unprotected sex, knotting, oral sex, claiming bites), hurt/comfort, sickfic, hospitals and medical talk, fluff and angst, age difference (Dean is 39, OFC is 27), True mates, self hate (OFC struggles with gender)

Chapter Three: Can't Be Claimed

Word Count: 3348

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The twenty minutes it took for help to arrive were nothing short of agony for Dean. He kept Emma cradled close. Whispering sweet words of encouragement in her ear, telling her to hold on, that help was on the way. She never responded, but he had to believe that she could hear him or at least knew he was there. That he wasn’t leaving her. That he was going to take care of her.

God, she’s so cold!

Dean tugged the blankets closer around the two of them and rubbed her arms roughly, desperate to infuse every ounce of his own heat to her chilled flesh. Give her his strength. Surround her with his scent. In his mind, he kept going over the conversation with Emma’s sister.

Emma can’t be claimed. Family doctor treating her since childhood.

Just what the hell did that mean? If it hadn’t been for the insistent tone in Jess’ voice, Dean would have called 911 instead. As it was, he was doubting his decision.

He pressed a kiss to Emma’s temple, “Keep fighting sweetheart, I’m right here.”

The door to the suite opened without so much as a knock of warning and a short, slight man entered. He wore a slim black suit and tie with a matching fedora pulled down over dark hair. His unsmiling face was sharply featured with beady eyes and a crooked, hawk-like nose. Everything about him was severe and unpleasant. The expression he wore was a mix of displeasure and annoyance. Going by the classic leather satchel in his hand, this man must be the family doctor.

Dean shifted Emma’s unconscious body off his chest and stood, “You the doctor?”

The man removed his hat and placed it on the table along with his bag, “I am Doctor Lancaster, and you are the Alpha who caused all the trouble.” He never spared Dean a glance as he rifled through his bag. His tone suggested an absolute disgust with the situation.

Dean crossed his arms over his chest. He didn’t appreciate being judged by a gargoyle in cheap mortician’s suit. Especially not when his mate’s life was hanging by a thread. “Yup, that’s me. So, are you able to help her?”

Lancaster moved over his patient with efficiency. After he took a few vitals, he drew out a vial and syringe from his bag of tricks. “I believe so, it was a good thing you called when you did. Another hour and she’d be dead.” He swiped an alcohol swab over the crook of Emma’s elbow and administered a hefty dose of the drug.

“What are you giving her?”

“Botox.”

The Alpha didn’t appreciate the sarcasm. He let out a low, menacing growl and clenched his jaw so that the muscle there twitched.

The doctor was equally unimpressed with the show of aggression. “It’s a combination of adrenaline, beta blockers and hormone booster.”

Dean frowned as he realized the implication, “She was on suppressants?”

“Ah! An Alpha with a brain! Nice to know at least one of you rutting beasts can think with something other than your nether regions.” Lancaster checked Emma’s pulse one last time. With a satisfied nod, he shut his bag and stood.

“Your Omega is going to be fine. Her temperature is already rising, and her heat cycle will now continue as normal.” The doctor gave Dean an appraising once over. “Judging by your own state, I’d say you are already aware of that.”

Dean was loathed to admit this quack was right about anything. The cavalier way he was treating a medical emergency should have him barred from practicing medicine anywhere in the civilized world. The fact that the emergency was his mate, made Dean want to rip the man’s throat out on principle alone. Yet, the little troll had done something right, because he could now pick up Emma’s scent. It was intoxicating, and stronger than it had ever been. Apple orchards and magnolia blossoms, it made his mouth water. His rut, that had been threatening since meeting Emma was now in full swing. His thoughts were quickly giving way to is Alpha instincts; protect, care for, and knot his mate.

Lancaster already had his hand on the door, knowing his presence wouldn’t be tolerated by a rutting Alpha for much longer. “She’ll wake in a couple of hours. When she does, the best treatment for her, is you.”

It was the faint, high pitched whine that finally pulled Emma from her dreamless sleep. She felt warm and secure. That lovely scent of sun-warmed cedar forest tickled her nose and she sighed in contentment, snuggling towards it.

“’Mega?”

The worry edged fear in that deep voice had her frowning before she even opened her eyes. When she did, Dean’s face was mere inches from hers, his handsome features tight with stress. The anxiety that rolled off him in waves made her heart clench. He was terrified.

She brought her hand out from under the nest of blankets and threaded it through Dean’s hair, “Alpha.”

Dean crushed her to his chest, his whole body trembled, weak with relief. After that wretched doctor left, Dean had ridded them both of their clothes and bundled them up under a mountain of blankets. He kept their bodies pressed as closely together as possible, his instincts telling him skin to skin contact was crucial to his Omega’s recovery. A warm, safe nest for just the two of them where he could protect her and look after her properly.

He scented her deeply, desperate to drown himself in the sweet fragrance. “Thank God,” he murmured over and over again.

“Shh, it’s alright. I’m alright,” she soothed, brushing kisses against his forehead. She held him tight as he shook in her arms. A virile, strong Alpha like him wouldn’t be scared by much, and that told her all she needed to know about how critical things had gotten.

He had taken care of her, gotten her help and no doubt saved her life. Now it was her turn to take care of him, “I’ve got you; I’m right here.”

He kissed her roughly, stealing her words along with her breath. Desperation and urgency in every heated pass of his mouth over hers. His hands groped her aggressively, pawing at any bit of softness he could find. It took him several minutes to regain his control. He abruptly pulled away, panting for composure he would not easily grasp.

“I’m sorry… sorry.” He let his forehead fall against hers as his chest heaved. His voice was low and hoarse. “You need rest.”

Emma studied Dean’s pinched features. The tension coiled uncomfortably, barely contained, under the surface, sweat dotted his skin and his rock-hard length twitched between them. His eyes were nearly black, overtaken by the hormones and lust ravaging his system. This whole mess had triggered his rut, God knows how long he had been suffering with it while she was unconscious. The added worry that his mate was dying had made it nearly unbearable.

Her heart broke for him then and with it came guilt. This whole thing was her fault. She knew the consequences of doing anything with an Alpha while she was still taking the treatments. It was reckless and irresponsible and unforgivably selfish.

She cupped the side of his face, gently brushing her thumb over the ridge of his cheekbone. He closed his eyes and leaned into her soothing touch. “I don’t need rest. I only need you.”

“No,” he muttered, trying to ignore the urges running through him. “I’m rough. Too rough. Don’t wanna hurt you.”

She continued to stroke his face, calming and soothing. “You won’t hurt me, I’m your Omega. And your Omega is a strong Omega.”

Dean mustered up a final ounce of control and looked into her deep, blue eyes. The comfort and consent he saw there eased the tightness in his chest. “’Mega mine.”

“Yours.” Emma confirmed softly and brushed her lips feather-light over his, “Mate now. Rest later.”

It lasted five days in total. Each of them seamlessly providing what the other needed most. Alpha and Omega. Balanced. Each a perfect counterpoint to the other. They relished in the joy of being together. Every experience was exciting and new, every touch satisfied in ways that surprised. Very few words were spoken, their connection was so strong that it over-rode the need to talk. That knowing, that deep down in the soul kind of certainty was staggering. The intimacy of their bond was deeper and more complex than either of them had ever known.

Now that their respective heat and rut cycles had ended, they were left with the rather mundane task of how to weave their lives together. These were the boring, yet very necessary details of the real world. The world outside of cozy one they’d created within the confines of the hotel suite. Neither of them were particularly excited at the prospect.

“So, going by this hotel room we’ve been honeymooning in, I’m guessing you’re not a New Yorker.”

Dean caught her gaze in the mirror as he deftly buttoned up the crisp, white dress shirt and smiled. Even her reflection caused his stomach to flip over. “Nope, Chicago. Born and bred. You?”

“Manhattan.”

“You ever been to the windy city?”

“A couple of times,” she shrugged, tucking her legs up demurely under her backside. “It’s not bad for fly-over country.”

“Fly-over country?” Dean scoffed, “Chicago is in the heartland, the Midwest. Everything a big city has to offer with access to wide open spaces. Way better than this uptight sand bar.”

“Is that so? Then what’s a guy like you doing slumming it around the boroughs? Cruising for a mate?”

“Nah, I just got lucky.” Dean plopped down to sit beside her on the bed and kissed her loudly. “I travel a lot for work. I’m in New York once a month or so.”

“Will you come back more now?” She asked hopefully, the thought of only seeing him once a month had her heart twisting.

“Well, I thought that you’d come back with me. You know, live with me in Chicago.” Seeing her face fall, he rushed to reassure her, hoping that he wasn’t bungling things too much. “I’m sure you will need some time to get things tied up here, but I want you with me ‘Mega. And we can come back as often as you like.”

“Why don’t you move here with me?”

Dean nearly scoffed, but the earnest look in her eyes suggested a softer approach might be better. “Sweetheart, my business is in Chicago. I make a good living, an excellent living actually. I have an apartment there along with some property in the country. I’ll take good care of you; you won’t have to worry about anything ever again.”

She raised her chin to look Dean square in the eye, “My business is in New York. I make an excellent living and I own a beautiful Brownstone on the upper east side. I don’t have a country cottage, but I’m willing to work that into our negotiations.”

“Negotiations?!” He sat back with a laugh, “You are something else, you know that? Omegas don’t negotiate living arrangements with their Alphas.”

She leveled her gaze, “Yours does.”

His mate wasn’t one to give in easily, and he loved that about her. Her spirit. Her fight. She challenged him, made him earn her submission. Made him prove he was worthy of her. He was happy to oblige her.

He leaned in close, his mouth centimeters from hers but not touching. He ghosted over, getting tantalizingly close but never making contact. Catching on, she let him edge her backwards on the bed. It was one of those games teenagers play, like there’s an invisible barrier around their bodies that allow them to get close but never touch. They moved in tandem, he filled up space she had occupied only moments before. She retreated as he advanced.

Dean’s movements were sleek and slow, like a panther. He never stopped his progression, never broke contact with her gaze. He watched with hooded eyes as the glint of rebellion gave over to something softer.

He hovered over her body only a hair’s breadth away, his grin was predatory, “Lucky for you, I’m an expert negotiator.”

Emma struggled to keep her thoughts orderly. It was growing increasingly difficult as her mate hovered above her. His scent surrounded her, his arms and legs caging her in. He was everywhere and she could feel herself start to float on that heady, seductive cloud. She couldn’t help the sigh that escaped her lips. Nowhere in the whole world felt as good, as right, as being with him.

It wasn’t until he saw her eyes flutter shut that he broke that invisible barrier between them. His nose brushed the claiming mark and inhaled deeply before moving on to the spot just behind her ear. It was one of her favorites and he had discovered just how sensitive it was over the past few days.

When he nuzzled her then nipped, she moaned and brought her fingers up to comb through his hair still damp from the shower. “Mmm… you make a valid point.”

He chuckled as he continued his assault. Moving down the graceful column of her neck, he sampled silky skin.

“I have an idea,” she said as Dean made his way to the zipper of her hoodie and started to ease it down. When he didn’t reply but moved his fingers moved to her waistband, she gave a sharp tug on the short hairs at the base of his skull.

“Agh!” He grunted as she wiggled out from under him. With a pained sigh and a semi hard erection, he propped himself up on one elbow. “Better watch it, Sweetheart. You know I like it rough.”

Emma sat up, regal as a queen. Determined to get back to business. “I think we should date.”

“Date,” he repeated. “We’re mated. We’ve spent the last five days claiming each other in every way possible. Don’t you think we’re a little past the dating phase?”

A worried frown creased her brow, “You don’t want to date me?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“I know it’s a little… backwards, but so what? Why should we do things the way other people do?” She gave a shy smile as she appealed to him. “I want to get to know you.”

He sat himself up completely and brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, “We are going to spend the rest of our lives getting to know each other.”

He instead of reassuring her, he felt her pull away. He felt like kicking himself, somehow, he’d managed to say something wrong. He crooked a finger under her chin and forced her to look at him. There was disappointment there, “It means that much to you?”

“Well, I thought it would be fun and I… I’ve never dated before. Not really, anyway.” She replied, struggling to keep embarrassment from coloring her voice.

Dean couldn’t help being surprised. Shocked. She was a beautiful woman, stunning actually. He had no doubt that his pretty little Omega had turned heads from an early age. She was so smart and fun and sexy, it seemed impossible that no one had ever tried to date her. Although the very thought had his possessive Alpha jealousy flaring.

“Never? No boyfriend ever?”

She shook her head and bit her lip. One of her more noticeable nervous tells. “No, not really. I mean, I’ve gone on a few dates but there was never anyone special.”

“Does this have to do with those black-market suppressants you were taking?”

“They weren’t black-market,” she countered, “I wasn’t getting shot up in back alleys, I was under a doctor’s care.”

“Oh, you mean that gargoyle that showed up? That guy was a dick, he had the bedside manner of a cab driver!”

“What he lacks in congeniality he makes up for in discretion.” Emma crossed her arms over her chest defensively. She wasn’t accustomed to defending her actions to anyone, especially regarding her presentation treatments. It was a well-guarded family secret, discussing it with anyone else made her very uneasy. Even if that person was her Alpha, the one person meant to protect her.

“Being an Omega is nothing but a liability, it’s a weakness. This city is full of Alphas who think they can drag me back to their cave by my ponytail. Or boss me around because the world order says they should be in charge of everything!”

Frustrated, she blinked back the stinging in her eyes. Tears that threatened to fall only seemed to undermine her point. Usually, she had a tight rein on her emotions but ever since being claimed, they refused to stay where she put them. They were like a storm she was constantly trying to keep from breaking through.

“I just wanted to live my life without having to worry that my presentation would get me overlooked for a promotion or kidnapped by a rut-crazed Alpha.”

Dean hated the fear and stress he felt from her. Her eyes bright with unshed tears. He knew the world wasn’t an easy place for Omegas. Emma certainly wasn’t alone in her feelings on the matter and many others had taken the same route. Suppressants and scent blockers were a common and safe method for most people who wanted a bit of anonymity.

“You’re right,” he said with a sigh, taking both of her hands in his. Reveling in how delicate they seemed compared to his. How easily they could be bruised or broken. “There’s nothing wrong with Omegas using suppressants. Hell, if I were in your shoes, I’d probably do the same thing. It’s just that reaction you had, you were so cold. I thought I was going to lose you. I’ve never been that scared. And then that creepy doctor… acting like he didn’t care if you lived or died. I wanted to kill him with my bare hands.”

Emma leaned forward and rested her forehead against his. “I know. I’m sorry Dean, it’s my fault. I knew better, I just got caught up. And then when my heat started, I couldn’t think straight.”

“It’s understandable. I did kind of sweep you off your feet.”

“You did,” she smiled softly. “That’s why I had only been with Betas before.”

Dean pulled back and looked at her with curiosity, “So you’ve never been with an Alpha before me?”

“No.”

His grin was instant and cocky as his chest puffed out. “Good.”

She rolled her eyes, “Shut up.”

He laughed and pulled her onto his lap, tucking her head under his chin. She fit there so perfectly; Dean knew he would never grow tired of holding her. Leaving New York without her, would likely be one of the hardest things he would ever do. He took a deep inhale of her sweet scent and groaned. “Okay Sweetheart, you win. Let’s date.”

Emma drew back and looked up at him with wide, hopeful eyes, “Really?”

“Hell, why not!”

She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him with such enthusiasm that he nearly toppled backwards. “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

“Just you wait,” he muttered through their joined lips, “I’ve got all kinds of romantic cards up my sleeve.”

When her face lit up Dean felt his heart swell. Yeah, being separated for any amount of time would be torture, but worth it if it made her so happy.

She eyed him with suspicion. “You aren’t just giving me my way because I cried, are you?”

“I hate seeing you cry, but no. You made a valid point. It’ll take us time to get everything figured out, why not have some fun while we’re at it?”

The dimple in her left cheek appeared and her eyes sparkled with the smile that bloomed. She was practically glowing with excitement and hope. Shining like the sun, the new center of his universe. His whole future held in his arms.

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